Other Roads
by Sebe
Summary: The angels failed to save Dean, so he saved himself. Part 3- Bobby's POV on his boys as they are now. Dark!Dean Hurt!Sam Gen.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Notes: Castiel's POV as the Winchesters outrun their destiny and Demon!Dean just wants his little brother. AU from 3x16. Powers!Sam. Demon!Dean CasPOV.

More exposition than I usually do, and Cas's POV is a bit difficult to latch onto. Still, I like the idea of the three of them still being together, deciding to ban together against heaven and hell and succeeding more than they did before.

Summary: The angels failed to save Dean, so he saved himself and went to Sam. Castiel wonders what would have been if they hadn't failed. Demon!Dean, CasPOV, Powers!Sam, some unstable!Sam.

**Other Roads**

It wasn't supposed to go like this.

Dean Winchester was supposed to be saved. Garrisons of angels descending into Hell to pull one soul out of it's depths. Something holy and prophetic and part of a plan set into motion before I was created. A plan I was not privileged enough to know the details of.

But it didn't go like that.

Something went wrong. The window of time passed, angels fell, and Dean was left. I knew there would be repercussions, but I had never seen the full-scale panic of my brethren before. It was the first time I wondered what I was not being told about the importance of one human soul. Well, two human souls.

Because it was known they came as a pair.

I had thought the crisis over when Dean Winchester fought his own way out of hell, pushing against the gates while his sibling, unknowing, pulled at them. I was there when the four-month-old turned earth gave way and Dean looked around, confused only for a moment, before he seemed to hone in on something.

I was not permitted to interfere, so I only watched as he made his way to a phone booth, called the numbers with an increasingly dark look on his face before finally reaching his second choice. Events flew after that.

To my amazement, Dean managed to pass every test the hunter he'd called and gone to, performed. A human soul twisted in hell should have flinched, should have sizzled and hissed, but Dean didn't. He was something new that had no name yet.

They made short work of finding the other, the youngest. They turned up at his motel room. Anger and shouting and waves of homicidal intent dissolved into crying and shuddering in each others embrace. The woman (demon, I knew) was quick to leave. As she did and Sam wasn't looking, Dean shot her a cruel smirk and allowed his eyes to flash black. She started in surprise, but said nothing and left.

It wasn't until that night that things began going…too wrong. The older man, Bobby Singer, had left. Dean had urged his younger brother to sleep, as Sam kept nodding off but was too scared of Dean's absence to allow himself to rest.

Urgings and reassurances that harkened back to the days when these two forces had only been two little boys echoed in the room. Dean's gentle tone and soft gaze as he looked at Sam surprised me. There was no taste of a lie or insincere affection. Sam Winchester was completely safe with whatever was left of his brother that had risen from the Pit.

It wasn't till two hours after Sam finally succumbed that Dean went out. Still ordered not to initiate contact, I remained the only observer as Dean singled out a woman in a bar, one with a dark soul of her own, and carved her up in an alley.

I believe he may have killed more if not for the pull to return to his brother's side. The days continued like that and I itched to intervene. The more I learned of the Winchesters and their past, what they had been through, the closer I felt to them. And I was beginning to think that the younger one could sense me in some way. He would pause when I was close, look around as though trying to focus on something just outside the human wavelength. He was special, like Dean, but different. And I wanted to know why.

Though it went against good sense and orders, I began trying to find out their part in events that Heaven deemed important enough to interfere in mortal lives.

I wish now that I had known sooner. Maybe I could have…

They hunted, they ate, they bickered, and they saved people. But Sam saw that something was tilted. He stopped asking where Dean was going when he left and pointedly ignored the blood stains that Dean missed. One night, denial was not enough for him.

I followed him closely as he followed Dean, barely restraining myself from calling out to him not to go. I wanted to spare him the sight of what he would surely find. I felt…protective of Sam Winchester, of them both really. I had been meant to save Dean. I failed and now feared what that failure would mean for them both.

Sam arrived just as Dean had stabbed the woman. His eyes wide in horror and a terrified _'Dean!'_ that made black eyes turn to him in shock and…was he scared?

"Sammy…" Dean approached his brother with not a thought left for the woman on the ground, gurgling her last breath. Sam had not pulled a gun, was standing still, and I was right at his back. He flinched violently when bloody hands reached out for him and Dean pulled back as if he'd been burned. He was hurt.

"Sam…it's me. It really is."

Sam's body rocked with silent sobs, but he kept tear-filled eyes on Dean.

"I know." He proclaimed, but shook his head all through it.

Smiling in relief, Dean wrapped Sam in his arms murmuring apologies that were the first insincere words he'd said to his sibling. He wasn't sorry. He couldn't be.

"Sorry, Sammy. So sorry, but this isn't bad, okay? We'll still hunt. I'm even better at it now. And with your powers…Sam, we can have anything!" He had pulled back and now left bloody prints on both sides of Sam's face. "Kill everything in our way. No more limits. Humans are just as evil, Sam, you know that. You'll see…this is gonna be better, Sammy. You'll see."

Sam only repeated soft, broken words.

"Dean. Dean. Dean…"

It was two nights later when I watched Sam Winchester sneak out of their motel room and try to disappear. It was the same night that I was called home by a trusted brother who had discovered the true plan for the Winchesters.

It took weeks to sort out the information about Michael and Lucifer and every carefully calculated move over millennia that was being shot down and rerouted again and again by two mortals. I had my truth and now had to decide what to do with it; to choose a side as my brethren wanted the Winchesters to do.

I did not choose my brothers and sisters, but I did not choose humanity either, not truly. I let my curiosity pull me back to Earth, back to two souls in particular.

It didn't take long to catch up on what had happened in my absence. Zachariah had already made his first few plays. Dean only laughed at him and demanded to know where Sam was. My former superior barely made it out alive after Dean got hold of an angel sword.

Sam was informed of the role he was expected to play as well, though with much more disdain directed at him. It tore him down even further than being separated from Dean had.

Sam was still running. In the weeks I had been gone, Sam had fled and Dean had been on his tail the entire time. No matter where he hid, Dean always found him, but he was never quite quick enough to trap Sam.

Every place Sam Winchester stopped in for more than a few hours was littered with bodies and covered in fire within a day of his departure. Everyone Sam spoke with or who spoke to Sam forfeit their lives. Dean had even managed to catch the demon that had been trying to string Sam along to the Apocalypse, the one he'd met that first night back with his brother. He drew her death out a little.

Dean wasn't letting him go. It was wearing on Sam horribly. He was extremely paranoid and eaten up with guilt.

It was Sam I went to first. I found him hunched over with a gun in his hands and knew that it was not Dean he was thinking of killing. No, that thought had never crossed his mind.

"Sam."

He didn't even point the gun at me when he spun around, all self-preservation instincts gone.

"Wh-what are you?" The sight of Sam, the skin and bones and shadow of him made my stomach clench. I tried to appear as nonthreatening as possible.

"My name is Castiel. I am an angel of the Lord."

I expected contempt or fear, not the harsh sounding laugh I received.

"You've come to get me to release the Seals." Sam shook his head, smiling bitterly. "I won't do it. Kill me, but I won't do it."

"No, I…" Why was I here? I had thought it to be curiosity, but it had become more than that. Maybe fascination? Wonder? Guilt? "I'm here to help you."

The wide eyes and grateful expression on his face, that spark of hope, was the last thing I saw before a blinding, brilliant light.

A banishing sigil. And I knew who it had to be that had used it.

Dean had found Sam.

I attempted to locate them again, but it was as if they had dropped out of the very universe. Very few things can cloak a human from angels, but Dean had apparently managed to find one. Eventually, I turned to their hunter friend, the one who loved them both and whose heart had broken like Sam's at the way things had turned out.

He accepted me quicker than I would have expected. Perhaps he was just that desperate to save what he could of the boys he thought of as his own. We shared what information we came across. He with his network of hunters, and I with my contacts to sympathetic angels. Weeks passed with no word.

And then it came.

He summoned me and spouted off an address.

"North Carolina. Can you get there?" he was edgy with frenetic energy. I nodded to him in what I hoped was a comforting way, then left before he could ask to come along. I did not know what would await me.

I still believe I was right to leave him, but when I saw the horror and learned the truth of what had been happening while the Winchesters were missing, I wished someone had been there to bear witness with me.

Dean had taken Sam far out to an abandoned warehouse and chained him there on the cold stone floor.

"I'm afraid you'll run again, Sammy." And he was genuinely afraid. Because Dean may be a monster and a killer, but he loved his baby brother. He spoke softly to Sam when he first awoke, kneeling down and brushing the backs of his fingers over Sam's cheeks as a parent would do to a child. "Don't be scared. I've just got to show you that it's not bad, Sam. It's really not."

Sam's voice was weary, too young to have eyes like that.

"You're killing innocent people."

"No one's innocent, Sammy. I'll make you understand. And no one who's not us matters anyway. It's just the truth. I told Bobby as much last time he kept phoning-"

Sam's head had snapped up. His hands, bound in manacles at the wrist, lashed out to latch onto Dean's shirt.

"No!" Sam screamed, teary-eyed. "No, tell me you didn't…Not Bobby! Dean, please…"

Dean regarded Sam a moment, took in how distraught he was, and his expression softened.

"Shhh, shh, shh…" He cooed, carding fingers through Sam's hair. "I didn't kill him. Didn't even hurt him."

Sam sagged in such relief that Dean had to hold him up.

"You don't want me to kill him?"

Sam shook his head against Dean's chest.

"No. No, Dean, please. Just don't-"

"Would it make you happy if I didn't hurt him?"

"…Yes."

"Then I won't." Sam looked dubious. "If it means so much to you. I want everything for you, Sammy. If you love him, I won't hurt him. He's never really been anything but good to us anyway. I'll protect him, little brother."

Sam sobbed in relief, crumbling completely against Dean who just smiled and hushed him.

"I'll make you see, Sammy. They're all worthless. I'm all you need and you're the only thing that matters. Everything exists just for us."

He kept Sam there for weeks, gave him everything he needed before he left for the night.

"Just a couple hours." He'd assure over his brother's wailing and pleas for him to stop. "Be right back."

Dean would drag home another victim and set about making Sam 'see'. He used every trick and skill Alistair had taught him before Dean had turned and killed him too. He made them squirm and sob and beg for death, sometimes for days.

All the while, he would coo soft words at Sam, who remained huddled in a dark corner, trying to block out the world. He hardly cried anymore.

And every time when it was over and there was a cooling body to add to the ditch out back, Dean would sit next to Sam and pull him into his arms. He brushed his thumbs over the skin under Sam's blank eyes and smile like he had in 1992 when Sam had brought home straight A's again.

"All for you Sam. See how much I love you?"

There was never anything but Dean's true sincerity and Sam's silence.

Not wanting to begin a confrontation I was not sure I could win (and I had never thought that about a human before), I waited until I thought Dean gone for the night to begin picking and sliding my way through the sigils and charms that decorated the walls and ceiling like Christmas lights.

When I finally made it to Sam, I feared for a moment that I was too late.

Sam lay still as death on the concrete floor, curled up with his head on Dean's balled-up leather jacket, arms unrestrained.

"Sam." I called out as I approached slowly. I was wary of any traps that may have been laid. Making it to Sam, I placed my hand on his shoulder and shook him gently. "Sam Winchester."

He made a small noise I could not discern, his eyelashes fluttering. I heard a loud crash behind me and immediately tried to warp Sam away. But nothing happened. Something was blocking us from leaving, though I had seen no sigils to that effect. A bullet in my back was the next sensation I registered.

"Get away from him!" Dean's eyes were crazed. When I turned around, he emptied a clip in my vessel. He went for the demon killing knife next as I edged backwards. I wanted to stay between him and Sam, but knew I would not be able to help if I was killed. I tried to look unthreatening.

"I only mean to help him."

"He doesn't need help!" Holy water was flung at me to no effect. "What are you?"

Dean continued going through his arsenal one by one and I knew it would soon come to the angel sword in his possession. I was at a loss.

"Shines."

Murder fled green eyes and Dean moved toward Sam who was now sitting up, head tilted so that his bangs obscured his eyes.

"Sammy?"

"He shines."

Dean's smirk was feral once again and his hand went for the angel sword. I was still too far to make it to the exit before he could get to me, but when Dean approached, Sam spoke again, a hint of urgency in his voice.

"No. No, not like them." Sam brought a hand to his head, shaking it slowly, like he was disagreeing with someone. "…Watching over you. No lullaby. An epitaph."

Dean had stopped moving towards me, but he still remained ready to attack. He looked a bit unsure at Sam's words, but they still held sway over him.

"Yeah, Sam. An angel, right? The ones that wanna use us." He retightened his grip on the blade. "One less problem."

"He doesn't betray us." I looked from Dean to Sam and found myself staring right into deep hazel eyes, watering as one would when seeing an old friend. "Only one that didn't, really…sided with us…won't hurt us now either."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

Dean shrugged, nonchalant, like he hadn't been about to kill me a second ago; like he knew he still could if he wanted, effortlessly. He walked back over to Sam and knelt next to him.

"Your head okay?"

Sam nodded.

"Snapped like snake bites, but now they're just mosquitoes."

Dean reached his hand out to Sam and Sam nuzzled into it like a well-loved pet.

"Wish I could take away those stupid visions." Dean mumbled.

Sam only smiled wistfully, insanity in his eyes, and I knew I was much too late for any type of rescue.

Sam took one of Dean's hands in his own and pulled at his fingers, counting them out.

"Me, you, Bobby, and Cas." He looked up at Dean in amazement. "We saved the _world_, Dean."

Dean chuckled and tussled Sam's hair.

"Then I guess that means we can do what we want with it, huh?"

I watched them all the while. This was all wrong, but I wouldn't falter. I had chosen my side and could not truly say I regretted it. From all those among the demons and angels, the Winchesters were the only ones trying to avoid the Apocalypse.

They had no agenda but staying with each other, no greater plan. And even with Dean being a murderer and Sam being broken, that made them the side with the purest devotions.

It wasn't supposed to go like this.

I had failed, was too late. Bobby would never forgive himself for not being able to protect them. Dean was a killer, a monster who only cared about Sam. And Sam was too damaged, driven to madness by his brother, to ever be fixed.

It wasn't supposed to go like this.

The world was going to burn under Dean's gun and Sam's powers. Alistair's star pupil and Lucifer's vessel. Heaven and Hell would falter, if not fall completely.

It wasn't supposed to go like this.

The brothers would stand together, side by side in the flames. Sam laughing, weaving his lunacy through the bodies, Dean destroying anything that got too close. They were going to be unstoppable, indestructible…

It wasn't supposed to go like this.

Inseparable.

Or maybe it was.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Notes: Even with how they've both been changed, Dean by hell and Sam by Dean, the way the brothers act with each other is really much the same. There's just a little more civilian blood and gore scattered around the monster hunting.

Summary: Dean and Sam continue on hunting like they always have. They're just…a little different now, that's all. Unstable!Powers!Sam Dark!Dean

**Other Roads part 2 **

The bar would have looked fine to any passerby. Cars and motorcycles all parked neatly in their spots, no brawls in the front or knife fights in the back.

Because Dean knew better than to let anyone bleeding escape. Inside, the bar was a bloodbath. Bodies covered the floor where they'd fallen after an unsuccessful attack or attempt to get away. Some remained slumped over in their chairs, never having gotten a shot off. Patrons and bikers and employees alike, there were no lines for Dean where Sam was concerned.

One idiot. One comment. One lone, _'What is he, slow?'_, from the mouth of a sneering pool shark had damned them all. Dean had shot the first few, but soon moved on to the knives.

Dean stalked closer to the only remaining unharmed man. He cowered and Dean grinned, wide, like a jackal moving in on its prey.

A gentle, but insistent tug on his sleeve had him turning immediately, though he carefully kept himself between the man and his brother.

"Dean…Dean…"

"Yea, Sammy."

Sam shook his head slowly, tilting his head forward slightly, eyes unfocused.

"Wife…three kids…" Sam leaned in close, like it was a secret. "Faithful…"

Dean sighed, but nodded.

"Alright, Sam. Now stay back, okay?"

Sam nodded and ambled back toward the booths, stepping carefully, respectfully, over the waitress who'd smelled too much like sin to be saved.

Dean dropped the hand holding his knife, the man in the corner shivering more. Dean looked at him and motioned toward the door with his head.

"Lucky day to be a good guy." Dean smirked. "Run on home before I find an excuse to add your body to the pile."

Dean waited a moment, knowing it would take the stunned man a few heartbeats to work up the nerve to move. Dean hated cowards like this, but Sam had asked, so…

"Go on!" The man was up and running for the door. He made it to the threshold before Dean called out to him, playing like a cat with a mouse. "Hey!"

The man stopped and Dean smiled again.

"Remember to be good to that family of yours. That's what saved you."

The man burst through the door at a dead run. Dean rolled his eyes at his own schmoopy warning and turned his attention to the crooked pool-player who'd started all this, still gurgling through a slashed throat in the corner. Couldn't talk anymore now, could he? Dean meant to leave this one alive. Wanted to play, wanted him to suffer. He still had no need to hurry, after all. That lucky son of a bitch wouldn't contact the police until the following day, if ever. Too terrified and probably busy changing his pants.

Knife gleaming, Dean advanced as Sam kept connecting the dots and coloring in the picture on the back of the placemat, waxy blue rubbing off in his hand.

Sam liked it when Dean was happy and, right now, the push of emotions he could always feel from his brother was content, alight and shining. The man Dean didn't like screamed, Dean laughed, and Sam smiled; he loved Dean's laugh.

Sam put the crayon down and frowned, looking into the box and not finding what he needed. Looking around, Sam slid from the booth and walked a few paces before kneeling on the floor just to the right of the liar and left of the adulterer; the slit throat and the bullet in the brain.

The world spun gold and silver around him and he smiled, head lolling forward slightly. The hard floor didn't absorb well, so the blood pooled beautifully all around him.

He had moved to the floor because that's where all the red was. He'd run out of red for the picture, you see. Sam glanced around to all the nearby bodies, noticing the circles of blood around most of their heads.

"Like halos…." He murmured.

Sam spread the fingers of his left hand and pressed slowly, reverently into the pool of red, careful not to cause ripples. Slow and careful so the screams wouldn't be so loud, but they were always there, whispering in his ear and scratching in his mind.

"Fed white roses red." Sam's head played with the idea that all flowers were white until someone bled where they grew. Then they turned the red of valentines and chalky candy hearts. They were in such high demand and Sam's mouth quirked in a half-smile. See? Dean _knew_. Dean was right. Dean helped people. Made sure there were always enough bouquets for young lovers.

Sam thought maybe his blood could help too. Dean always did so much for him. He wanted to help Dean too. Never moving the hand he had in the dark liquid staining the ground, Sam grasped a nearby knife with his free hand. He slashed the underside of his arm once, twice, watching his blood run free. He knew his blood was different and wondered what color the roses would be.

Sam smiled and cut deep into his arm again. _'I'm helping. I can help too, Dean.'_

It was okay…It was all okay…Dean had said, had made him _see_…His brother was always so good with him, so giving. He'd spent weeks in that warehouse with only him and Sam and no pool or tv or beer, just trying to make Sam see. Sam had been so bad back then, so wrong, hadn't understood; tried to run and hurt his brother. But Dean had been patient and Sam had come around.

A hand grabbed Sam's, stopped him from feeding the flowers. Sam felt an arm slide across his stomach and let himself be pulled, his back against Dean's chest. Sam was wholly mesmerized by the way his hand rose out of the blood. Drops fell back into the pool, but his palm maintained the evidence of interaction.

"Got you. Got you…" Dean's reassurance was right next to Sam's ear. He felt his brother uncurling the fingers he had wrapped around the blade. A soft hiss, not from him, but from Dean as the knife clattered to the ground. Dean made one of those noises that could reach Sam, even through the constant din in his head. His brother wasn't happy. Not mad or hurt, but…upset.

Abandoning his current fascination, Sam turned, curling into Dean like he knew made his brother happy. Dean wasn't enjoying himself or laughing and Sam had to fix that. Dean should always be content, should always have everything he wanted. Sam would do anything for Dean.

Like Dean had always done for him.

Dean relaxed marginally as Sam turned and seemed to try and burrow himself into his leather jacket. He knew it was Sam trying to comfort him, but he also knew Sam had no idea what had upset his big brother. Didn't put together that seeing Sam hurt, carved up by his own hands, horrified Dean.

With his left hand, Dean pulled Sam closer against him, like he was trying to shield them both from some imagined chill. With his right, Dean pressed a handful of napkins from the table against Sam's deeply sliced-open arm.

"You okay, Sammy?"

His shaggy head nodded against Dean's chest.

"You ready to go? Need to get you cleaned up."

"You're done playing?"

Dean smiled and brushed Sam's cheek with his thumb affectionately.

"No more playmates left. I'll find some more later." Dean cautiously lifted the corner of the napkins he had clenched around Sam's arm. He winced at the wounds and the free flow of blood. "Need to get you taken care of now, little brother."

Dean stood and pulled Sam's good arm around his shoulders, taking most of his brother's weight and leading him toward the door and out to the car. Managing to get the passenger side door open, Dean helped Sam ease down into the seat. Before swinging his legs in, he crouched down, hand on Sam's blood-stained cheek. The mess of blood on Dean's palm only added to the streaks already on Sam's face, but Sam didn't seem to mind.

"Hey…you know what that dick said in there's not true, right?" He made a point to look Sam in the eye. "There's nothing wrong with you."

Dean caught something in Sam's eyes that was every bit the little brother Sam had been and would always be. Always wanting assurance from his brother, his protector. Sam smiled and Dean nodded, swinging Sam's legs into the car and getting in the driver's seat.

Dean made sure Sam kept a tight grip on his arm and pulled out of the parking lot turned crime scene, speeding back to the motel. They'd stay just long enough to patch Sam up and then leave this town behind them. Maybe go see how Bobby was doing. They hadn't stopped by in awhile and they could both use some rest.

"You know you either, right?" Sam's voice was a little weak, crinkling Dean's forehead with concern.

"What?"

"There's nothing wrong with you either."

Dean looked to Sam, somewhat caught off guard. Sam was rarely coherent enough for such a thought, let alone a sentence. And Dean hadn't been thinking that at all, but it surprised him how much Sam's words meant to him. Dean smiled and reached over to press a hand on top of Sam's to keep pressure on. He squeezed his sibling's hand as Sam's head lolled on the headrest to look at him. They smiled at each other contentedly and drove on.


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Notes: Sam's habit of injuring himself winds the boys back to nest at Bobby's for awhile. He's happy as always to have them near, no matter what they're like now. They're still family. He loves them and they love him.

Third, probably last part to this series that was supposed to be a oneshot. It's had way more exposition in it than I usually do. Hope everyone's enjoyed. And as always, reviews are much loved.

Summary: Bobby's POV on his boys as they are now. Dark!Dean Hurt!Sam

**Other Roads- Part 3**

"Here ya go, boy. Should be everything you need."

Dean spared a distracted _'thank you'_, but didn't take his eyes off Sam. Neither did Bobby. He ruffled Sam's shaggy hair gently. He felt both heartbroken and touched when Dean only stuttered momentarily in his motions. Anyone else, their arm would've been torn off. Dean trusted Bobby. And not only trusted him, but trusted him with Sam. That made the older hunter something close to a god in their world.

"Call me if you need anything else."

He wouldn't be called. All those two needed was each other. Still, Bobby paused to watch them from the doorway for awhile. Sam's arms and the area around his face and neck were a mess. Slashes criss-crossed every patch of skin from fingertip to shoulder and deep gouges from his fingernails were worn into his neck, collarbone, and one spot on his cheek.

Kid had really done a number on himself this time. He'd been more prone to hurting himself lately in fits of confusion or when he was agitated. He didn't seem to really feel pain anymore, not physical anyway. Dean usually kept such a close watch on him. He must've been distracted by-

Bobby shook his head, breaking off the thought before it could begin. He was no moron. He knew what Dean did, the kind of things he was capable of, but that didn't mean he wanted to spend his time imagining it. He knew what Dean had done to Sam too. He would've figured it out on his own even if that angel he'd been working with hadn't come and told him.

Castiel still kept close to the boys too. Like Bobby, he knew what Dean did, but Bobby supposed a few dozen dead bodies were preferable to the annihilation the apocalypse would have brought. Castiel had told him that there was little threat of the end beginning now. Sam was the only one who could release Lucifer by killing Lilith and he wouldn't do anything his brother didn't want him to. Even the angels who were onboard for the rapture were at a loss.

They couldn't persuade Sam and Dean to act by threatening others; that didn't work anymore. And no matter the damage they could cause to the boys, they knew they couldn't kill them. Every attempt they'd made had cost them soldiers. Taken out by either Dean or Castiel or, in one cataclysmic disaster, Sam.

One angel had gotten too close, almost stabbed Dean with Castiel too far away to prevent it. Sam had stood between his brother and the threat, raising his hand to the doomed angel. Cas said they hadn't been able to find a trace of her, likely scattered across time and space. And when the dust and light had cleared, all that remained was a crater where a small town in Iowa once was and all that was left standing were two brothers and their angel.

Bobby sighed, remembering how tough it had been to cover up the boy's involvement in that disaster from other hunters.

Castiel came around when he could. On business, to share a story or, sometimes, a beer. He wasn't fallen, still every bit the angel he always was. Probably due to being under the Winchester's protection, though, technically, he was their guardian. He was fairly free in his comings and goings to heaven and back. Aside from Bobby, Cas was the only one Dean allowed anywhere near Sam.

Dean was usually so focused on his little brother; it was rare that anything would take his attention to such a degree that the younger boy would be able to slip away and hurt himself like this. These bastards must have really had it coming.

The thought again surprised the hunter. These were humans Dean had killed and probably for nothing more than insulting or threatening Sam. But still, Bobby found he couldn't condemn Dean for it. These two were his boys and Dean was only protecting Sam. Bobby wondered what kind of person it made him that, even if it had been a coven of nuns Dean killed, Bobby would never have sounded an alarm.

Bobby watched as Dean finished with one arm, speaking softly to Sam all the while. He turned and saw the older hunter leaning on the doorframe. He smiled like Dean and Bobby found himself smiling back; if not at the man before him, then at the seven-year-old on his doorstep, kid-brother tucked behind him.

Bobby ambled off to the kitchen to make coffee, to wait until Dean was satisfied Sam was asleep and safe enough to leave the room. He'd share a beer with Bobby and they'd tend to Sam until he was up and about. If he was lucid enough, Bobby could use his help researching a string of murders along the east coast that's cause had been eluding him. No matter how he appeared to others, Sam still knew several languages and was smart as a whip. Dean beamed with pride every time he found an answer or connection, still teased him about being a bookworm. Sam still scowled at the jibes from his big brother, sometimes elbowed him if he was more present and Dean deserved it.

Bobby allowed himself to forget about the bigger picture and just concentrate on his own close-knit, not a drop of blood between them, family, and smiled.

In all the years and cataclysms and journeys-to-hell between those little boys and the men they'd become, the Winchesters remained, really, much the same.


	4. Annex

Summary: The police have Sam. And they've never made a mistake so big. You don't take one Winchester when the other one's still out there. Set in the 'Other Roads' world.

Author's Notes: This is set in the world of the 'Other Roads' saga. Just a short little coda set in that series. All you need to know is that Dean crawled out of hell a demon, but he's still a hunter and still very protective of Sam, just…a bit homicidal. And Sam's a little off and eerie for various reasons and he is able to use his powers to an extent. They're not evil so much as…devoted. Kind of an easter egg to those who like the series, but I hope others enjoy too.

**Other Roads (Annex)**

"We've already got you on aiding and abiding. And your brother on a lot more serious charges." The detective leaned forward, trying to play good cop, not that the prisoner was paying him any attention, eyes roaming about the room. Yeah, there was something seriously off about this kid. "Look, I know you want your brother to live through this, so if you tell us where he is, we can bring him in without hurting him."

There was no indication the kid heard him, eyes still drifting. He felt the two guards behind him shuffle uneasily and found comfort in the fact that they were just as uneasy as he was. There had been something in the air since they'd swooped in and picked Sam up while the brothers were separated and they all felt it.

"Sam." He called. Okay, he was starting to get annoyed and he was quickly tiring of his false good cop act. "Sam!"

He slammed his hand on the metal table. Sam didn't jump or startle. Hazel eyes met the other man's for a moment. Slowly, Sam smiled before seeming to drift again, watching his fingers draw invisible patterns onto the table, stretching the length of his cuffs.

The detective couldn't help but be a bit unnerved.

"You made a mistake." It was the first thing he'd said since being picked up. The veteran officer's spine chilled a bit when a pitying look joined the small smile on Sam's face. "Now you're going to bleed for it…All of you."

Sam laughed under his breath, pulling into himself and seeming to enjoy the little world only he could inhabit. Sam had closed his eyes, swaying slightly as if to a song.

"The wolf's coming, the wolf's coming and he's colored all in red." He stopped suddenly, a wide grin on his face as he stared straight up at the man. "Shouldn't have stolen his cub."

Some part of Sam pitied the men. They had no idea know what was coming. Sam closed his eyes as he heard the sound of a door being kicked in in the front of the station. He saw in his head what men from DC would see when they arrived in the morning, the war path his brother laid. Sam smiled as he heard his name called out and the world shone all in red.


End file.
